


And the rest of it

by SunsetSwish



Series: Package Deal [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Demon Deals, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:20:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetSwish/pseuds/SunsetSwish
Summary: A continuation to what was supposed to be a oneshot about how Q's time to pay for his Wish came and passed and he's forced to deal with where that leaves him. Him and his demon partner.





	

When Q wakes up the following day Bond is already gone. He knows that because one of the first thing he does is wriggle across the bed to check. Checking means a bit of pathetic one-armed patting around the bed while his body still feels heavy with sleep and his eyes won't open like they're supposed to.

There's some white noise drifting in from the light traffic outside, which means one of the windows in the flat must be open. It does look like a nice day is starting, even if it's not likely to last very long, considering the season. Q can't see the sun itself from the bedroom window but from the light shining in he can guess it's quite high by now. A quick glance at the clock tells him it's already five minutes past eleven so it's no wonder he's the lone occupant of the bed.

Q buries his face in a pillow and pulls at the duvet wrapped crookedly around him like a cocoon. He spends a few more minutes just lying there, feeling disappointment well up inside him. The reason for the feeling is simple: if Bond isn't here, then he can't say that Q had a nightmare last night and that while it lasted it made him call James all kinds of things. He isn't there to laugh at Q and say he'd been insulted in many colourful ways in his life but not called a demon yet.

However, if Bond isn't there, Q can go right ahead and imagine such conversation all on his own. He does just that for a few moments before deciding he's upset himself quite enough for one morning. There will be time for it to get worse later.

Within next ten minutes, leaving the bed with a long-suffering sigh, the Quartermaster gets up to answer the call of duty. He grabs the nearest robe (Bond's) and shuffles forward. Across the bedroom there are his yesterday clothes folded neatly on a chair, waiting to be properly put away. Q has no clear recollection of undressing last night but he never folds his clothes this way, so it must be his lover's doing. Thinking about it, this morning is rather like having a hangover without a drop of alcohol and without the headache to go with it. Q remembers details only when he's looking at specific things that he had touched or paid attention to last night and because of that, maybe it _is_ better for Bond to be away for now, after all.

There's nothing that Q can put on straight from the shelves of his closet, so he pulls out his ironing board and picks something suitable for work. He doesn't let his thoughts stray to _why_ there's nothing already prepared for today, or any day after.

He has to pass by a steel-blue shirt which makes a neat shape on its hanger, hooked over the half-open door of the closet. A faint outline of a stain remains stubbornly visible on its lower part: a burgundy fading into blue. Q had been the cause of this damage when one evening he was allowed to have too much wine at once and... well. Some of the liquid ended up on the wrong side of his glass when he tilted towards Bond to do something that was probably supposed to be very seductive or smart.

Actually, it was only over a week ago and Q does know very well why he'd drunk that much.

James doesn't know that Q had already ordered a replacement for the shirt, due to arrive after the weekend. If he had done the same thing himself then at worst he'll have a spare to keep in his own flat. Q brushes his fingers over silky fabric, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. It hasn't been worn again after dry-cleaning failed to remove the stain and yet the fabric carries the scent of Bond's cologne just from proximity to his other clothes. And there are indeed more shirts as well as a suit, slowly taking over the right side of Q's wardrobe. Up on a shelf beside Q's trousers there are two dark pairs of Bond's. By the front door there are shoes, perfectly polished and in contrast with Q's matte pairs.

Leaving the piece of clothing alone, Q goes to the bathroom to take an extra quick shower and to get into a productive mindset, hopefully. Shower is a place for creative contemplation for him. It has always been, back when there was no Q, just Adam. Sometimes, lately, there is Q _and_ James, when the latter worms his way in despite Q's protests and promises of getting together later, after his shower. Because of their schedules not aligning that often he allows his lover to disturb his peace and makes up for it by making a solemn promise to himself to get more work done later.

This morning, alone, Q goes in his head over the operation they'll be carrying out today. By the time he's getting out of the bathroom and making a damp mess of his hair with some vigorous towelling, he's almost completely focused. There is the temptation to stay home, take the phone in his hand and get Bond to come back, right now, so they can maybe have a discussion which is vital at this point in their relationship. But he doesn't get his phone and he doesn't call Bond. Just because he'd prepared everything for R to get Q-Branch through today without him doesn't mean he can just not show up and claim that family matters were more important. He imagines saying something like this to his staff: 'I wasn't supposed to be alive today anyway, so I might as well spend the day at home. You'll be fine.'

That line of thought brings him back to Bond and his absence. There's a mess of feelings inside Q that needs to be untangled, all of them to do with James-fucking-Bond. He could have approached Q _earlier_. He could have said how things were. He could have indicated he knew about Deals and take it from there. Was he afraid Q would deny everything and run?

Q recognizes when he's getting lost in his circling thoughts again, so he shakes them off and he makes his way into the kitchen... where half of his breakfast is already waiting for him. He blinks at the plate with a toast, sliced tomato and cheese, and a glass with juice next to it. Beside those lies a post-it note with something written on it, which Q decides to ignore for a short while in favour of boiling water for his tea and for some fresh eggs to go with the toast.

It has to be said James knows him well. He knows how his lover wakes up hungry but finds preparing food bothersome when he's in a rush, and so stuck between lack of time and aversion for any ready-made breakfast, Q ends up relying on either James or his staff to provide him with something more than liquids. Chewing on his toast, Q glares at the piece of paper which had been left for him next to the plate. It says simply 'have fun'. _He_ is going to _work_ , not to play like certain agents do. Only part-time agents, apparently. He wonders if Bond left it because he wasn't planning to pop in during the day to speak with Q. As far as the Quartermaster knows, the agent still doesn't have any work lined up but it's possible something had come up and Q slept through a phone call. Not all assignments have to go through him.

 * 

Upon entering the main floor of his Branch, Q is handed a report from his second in command, bringing him up to date with his Branch's activity from this morning pretty much up until he walked in. There's still some time left to prepare, time to sort through and remove any creative messes from workstations, catch up on world news. Q goes up to M's office once to make sure everything's still green-lit.

What they're doing today isn't so much high-risk as it is complicated and requiring constant oversight to keep the pieces from falling the wrong way and ruining the pattern. It's exactly what Q needs to thrive, to switch himself to work mode and not think of anything else. Their active Double-Oh and his supporting agents are being handled by the upper levels of MI6, while Q's team monitor enemy movements and stay prepared for unforeseen obstacles. They're set up near the central desk down in Q-Branch, so Q can keep both his eyes on the bigger picture.

For the first hour - well, _two_ hours - the Quartermaster has to admit to being easily distracted. He _might_ be glancing to the side at any sighting of a man in a suit and fair hair walking into Q-Branch. Only after Bond doesn't show himself for a long enough stretch of time does Q truly lose himself in his screens and his data. Aside from thinking about 007, Q has to bear the presence of Hills and his friend from the night shift. Both men are being very professional and not staring at the Quartermaster but at the very beginning of Q's shift Hills made sure to be the one to get Q his first cup of the day and to see from up close that his boss was indeed just fine.

If not for all those small details, Q might truly be able to convince himself the previous day didn't happen at all. Q absorbs atmosphere of his workplace, his office, basks in the background voices of his staff. Every time he talks to his favourite people he thinks 'I'm glad to be back'. He doesn't think they notice there's something... new about him. Maybe a bit too eager, too happy to answer questions, too patient. Not that he's known for being cold, not at all. Q mentally sighs at himself. He's doing the overthinking again. He can't possibly appear as anything else but someone having a good day and ready to get things done.

Later, as the operation progresses and he glances at the clock which shows later and later hours, he reminds himself he's not waiting for _it_ tonight. A kind of comfort and restored control comes with the knowledge that Q is also not waiting for his agent with number seven to evade all the things hurled his way by the enemy on his own missions. 002 is no less Q's agent, but he is considerably less prone to 'accidents' as well as more willing to cooperate with Control or his Quartermaster when needed.

Despite everything, it is always a comfort to know Bond's somewhere nearby, running around London on whatever personal errands he has planned or invented. He might be staying in his own flat for the day, lazing about. Now more than ever Q realises how unpredictable Bond is. Even in their relationship: they don't really plan ahead for their evenings, they don't make plans to go to one place or another. What's regular is that Bond comes to Q's more often than it happens the other way around. Probably because Q's flat is the one more lived-in, the one with real plants and the one better suited for the work Q brings home.

Q likes being home for the simple comfort it gives him, though there are many good things about going to Bond's. For one, there aren't any items there that belong to Q. Especially none of the pieces of hardware he has at his flat, none of his notebooks with thoughts on improvement or ideas for software to be developed in the future. In short, when he's there, he does not think about work. Going out for dinner and being in Bond's white, barely-touched space afterwards feels like having an _affair_ and it excites Q to have sex there - which is not what he's supposed to be thinking about.

* 

It's late when he's closing the door of his flat behind him and stepping out of his shoes. Weather had taken a turn for worse in the afternoon and the chill of it chased him between the Tube and home. It's so much warmer inside and there's a light on in the dining area so after he gets his jacket off, he pads closer on the hardwood floor to peek at what's going on in his kitchen.

Having slept through the morning long enough to not be terribly sleepy by now, Q thinks he might actually be in a mood for a late, light supper. It's just his body ignoring the initial reaction of apprehension in favour of home-made food and more warmth. Whatever James is making smells just about ready and as inviting as always. It's a pleasant side-effect to having a lover whose standards are so high - Q gets to eat whatever Bond deems good enough for himself.

Since Q didn't come home very late and didn't go straight to the bedroom shutting the door with too much force (or too quietly), James already knows the operation was a success. He seems content not asking for any details and frankly Q's glad for that. He'd talked so much already during endless consultations, while supporting his agents and in the first after-report to M that he would rather just sit and enjoy food in silence. Besides, watching Bond move around without deadly intent is always a nice, calming distraction in itself, which is also a delightful example of irony.

And so, looking at his lover's back where he's busy by the counter, Q might forget for a moment about what else is there beyond the classy taste in food, wine and clothes. He might forget about ice in his eyes, whose meaning Q only now fully understands.

Bond is using overhead lights by the counter between the stove and the fridge which direct the most light to the working space and put the rest of the room in a soft glow. His movements are unhurried and sure, predictable to Q, who keeps on watching.

Here and now, Q might forget, once again, that he is one day past his expiration date.

It takes a while for him to notice the lack of wine on the table. There's no bottle on the counter top either. He guesses there's no seduction in plans for later. Not that Bond made it a habit to ply his Quartermaster with wine each time he wants to bed him. It's just that when there's proper dinner, there usually is proper wine to go with it and a proper shag to follow. Tonight, it might just be the one out of three. Or - and that's a fair possibility - Bond no longer feels the need to put in effort into what's between them. But no, he's _cooking_ for them and humming while he's at it, so Q should take care not to project on Bond what isn't there at all.

Once they sit down to eat, Q feels Bond's gaze on him like a steady caress each time Q looks down to gather food on his fork. It's not like he's staring any more than usual but Q is feeling it more than usual when he does it. It used to be like this for Q at the very beginning of their relationship. He'd been unsure then and he is unsure now.

Bond only breaks the silence once to ask if Q is still having the Sunday off (yes, he is) and they continue on without words. There is an elephant in the room. Q is ignoring it. James is waiting for Q to stop ignoring it. Q isn't planning to do that, not when he never had training for handling this sort of situation. Not that there is training anywhere similar to what he needs in Six's curriculum. Besides, it's a nice night. It feels normal. Q wants to feel this way a little longer and serious conversations in the middle of the night are not normal.

They need to talk. But. Not now, not tonight. Please.

Done with his meal to the last bit, Q puts the cutlery down. "Thank you. This was very good."

"It was my pleasure. Bed?"

"Mmm, yes, please." Fed, warmed up and lazy-tired, Q thinks bed is a very good idea at this point. If James happens to want something more than sleep then Q supposes he can accommodate him even if he'd rather just lie down and rest.

James stands up, clearly intending to clean up the table first so Q stays in his seat for a little longer. Putting his cheek on his forearm, Q leans on the table and listens to clinking of plates being put into the dishwasher until the whole table and the stove is cleared. Whirr of the machine marks the end of James's work and Q looks up at him to meet the agent's questioning gaze.

He mumbles something like "'am tired" as he reluctantly stands up to go to the bathroom before James asks him something embarrassing like if he's all right. Brushing his teeth goes slowly, in part because Q closely watches himself in the mirror, wondering if there might be some visible proof of his unusual status after all. He wonders if tonight will be the last pretended moment of normalcy for him.

He does eventually emerge from the bathroom and after that they undress and change separately. Although he seems eager to join Q under covers, James does not want anything from him that night but to have him near when they fall asleep.


End file.
